


The Lion And The Dragon

by KnightOfTheBurningTree



Series: The Rise of The Dragons [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post - A Dance With Dragons, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfTheBurningTree/pseuds/KnightOfTheBurningTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrion has travelled far and endured much to meet Daenerys & now is his chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tyrion I

Tyrion I 

On his short and stunted legs, The Imp, Tyrion of House Lannister wadled into the throne room of the greatest pyramid of Mereen which was now filled with various groupings of people. The survivors of the fierce Second Siege of Mereen; the winners who hoped for praise and honours from the dragon queen, and the losers who nervously awaited her judgement and punishment. The queen was not known for her kindness towards her enemies. The remnants of the Yunkai forces, a grouping of the freed slave soldiers from the company named The Mothers Men, a Dothraki Khal surrounded by his bloodriders. He could see them all from where he was walking past the remains of the sellsword company, The Windblown who had been the first to turn on the Yunkai'i in the midst of battle. Their captain, The Tattered Prince still stood, though he'd suffered a wound during the battle. He was certainly not the only one to suffer thusly. 

True to their name, The Second Sons had been the second to turn on the slavers to The Mother of Dragons. They had torn through as many of the slavers soldiers as possible, cutting a bloody path through them to take down the closest trebuchet to them, named Wicked Sister by the slavers. The switch in sides had thrown the Yunkai camp in to chaos. The Second Sons had focused on capturing the Yunkai generals who had still been bickering as Ser Barristan and The Unsullied were decimating their forces. They yielded meekly enough once they realised there was no way they could turn the tide of the battle, not once the Ironborn had landed and scores of raiders had stormed the shores. 

The Ironborn were led by The Lord Captain of The Iron Fleet, Victarion Greyjoy himself, a hard man if half of what Tyrion had heard about him was true. A true Ironborn soldier. His forces had taken the bay at the right moment. _No doubt this was the work of Moqorro._ The Red Priest stood besides the Iron Captain clad in the black and gold of House Greyjoy which only served to make him more menacing. Tyrion wondered what strange turn of events had led his former travelling companion to end up in the service of Victarion Greyjoy. As he walked past him, Moqorro gave him a smile that sent chills up his spine. He returned the smile with a nod and continued on to stand next to Ser Jorah Mormont and Brown Ben Plumm along with a few of the high ranking officers in The Second Sons before the Queen.

She was as beautiful as he had heard. She sat on a simple ebony bench piled up with pillows. To her side, tall and majestic in intricate armour with a white cloak hanging from his shoulders stood Ser Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Queensgaurd. He was not the only one in a white cloak but Tyrion could not hope to put a name to the youth with a whip on his right hip.

The queens young but beautiful scribe stepped forward and in a surprisingly clear and loud voice announced, "All hail Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, The Unburnt, Queen of The Andals, The Rhoynar and The First Men, Khaleesi of The Great Grass Sea, Queen of Slaver's Bay, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons."

She rose gracefully from her throne, as everyone in attendance knelt before her. She turned to The Tattered Prince, "My lord, step forward." She waited till he knelt before her before addressing him again. "Your forces were the first to turn to my side during the battle. If there is anything you would ask of me, now is the time." 

The Tattered Prince rose and replied, "I ask only a place in your council to continue to serve you and of course, what was promised." 

"So be it." 

Next to be brought before the queen was The Lord Captain, Victarion Greyjoy with the Dark Flame at his side, they knelt before the queen. "Your Grace, I was sent to aid you by my brother Euron Crow's Eye of House Greyjoy, the Third of His Name, The Iron King, King of the Isles & the North, King of Salt & Rock, Son of the Sea Wind, Lord Reaper of Pyke, Captain of the Silence."

"I hope to someday meet your brother and thank him personally. Your aid was most welcome though certainly unexpected. Ser Barristan tells me that it was your forces that ultimately changed the course of the battle." 

"I think my brother would be honoured to meet you when we return to Westeros. Allow me to introduce Moqorro, a Red Priest of R'hollor." 

The priest stepped forward and bowed to the queen. "Your Grace, I've been sent by the High Priest in hopes of enlightening you to the ways of the one true god, R'hollor."

The queen looked uninterested in learning anything about the fire god and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I look forward to hearing more about your god, someday. For now, I have people to attend to." 

Tyrion smiled, he was starting to like this queen. She had a clear head and knew how not to insult people she cared little about. A trick his sweet sister never learnt. 

The scribe stepped forward and called upon the Second Sons. Brown Ben Plumm led them and kneeled before the queen. "Your grace, The Second Sons are yours and so am I." 

"Rise, my lord." She replied, "It seems I am in your debt, without your forces, we might not have prevailed against the masters of Yunkai"

"It is an honour Your Grace, I hope you will allow me to introduce the 2 newest members of the Second Sons. One whom I'm sure you're quite familiar with. Ser Jorah of House Mormont." 

The bear stepped forward and knelt. "My queen." 

The look on her face was one of confusion. "I know this man better than you my lord and I had hoped to never see him again. This man betrayed my trust and was exiled from this city. I pray the next member you'd like me to meet is a man of better standing." 

It was his turn. Finally, he thought. Finally, I get to meet this dragon queen. After all I've been through to get her. He waddled up on his to kneel before her as Brown Ben introduced him. "Allow me to present Tyrion of House Lannister, the rightful Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of The West."" 

"Your grace, it's an honour to be here. I have travelled a long way to meet you." 

She stared at him and sneered, "Why are you here, Lannister?" Saying the last word as if it were a curse.

_Ah, it seems my family's reputation has preceded me even this far. Thanks again Father._

"To serve you and help you return to Westeros." 

"And how would you serve me? The same way your brother served my father?" 

"I am not Jaime, Your Grace, just as you are not Viserys." 

"You have a bold tongue for such a small man."

"Oh I know," he sighed. "It's been an endless source of trouble but it, as well as the rest of me are yours. And to prove it, I've brought you a gift."

"And what gift is that?"

"Knowledge. About your family."

"That I could learn from any book on my family's history. A poor gift my lord."

Now he had her. "Not of your dead family. I speak of your living family. You are not the last dragon."

Ser Barristan spoke up, "There are no other dragons, Imp. King Aerys II was slain by your honourless brother. Rhaegar by The Usurper on the Trident. His children, Rhaenys and Aegon were killed by your father's men." 

"And my brother was killed by my first husband, Khal Drogo. I am the last dragon." 

He scratched the stump of his nose and replied. "Your brother Rhaegar's son lives."

"Tell me everything you know."

"All in due time Your Grace. Information of this sort doesn’t come without a cost."

She stared at him before replying, "You have my attention Lord Tyrion. What is it that you want in return for this information and entering my service?"

 _To rape and kill my sister._ That's what he had told Vogarro's whore in that tavern. He knew better than to say that now.

"Firstly," he said while raising a finger, "Royal pardons for myself, Lord Plumm and Ser Jorah. Along with all the men who fought with us."

"And?"

"When we return to Westeros and you claim the Iron Throne. I want all my rightful titles and lands restored. I do hate the sound of empty titles." He said with a smirk.

"And?"

"Lastly, you will name me as Hand of the Queen. Now."

She laughed softly and looked at him. "You are a bold little man Lord Tyrion, if what you say proves to be true then mayhaps some of your requests will be met, until then, the title of Queen's Hand belongs to Ser Barristan." 

He smiled, "My apologies Ser Barristan, it seems like you're about to have one less title to your name."


	2. Daenerys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys introduces her new Hand, Tyrion to one of her children

Daenerys I

'Your Grace" he said, "I don't think this is necessary." 

"You swore to serve me, is that correct?"

He hung his misshapen head and replied, "I did so swear Your Grace"

"Then you must meet my children, My Lord"

 _Hopefully then you'll show me the respect I deserve Imp._ She was walking slowly to match the pace of her new Hand, Tyrion Lannister as they entered the now deserted pyramid of Uhlez that her Viserion had claimed as his own. She shuddered to think of all the people who died when Rhaegal & Viserion were set free. At first, in her anger, she had placed the blame on Prince Quentyn for all the deaths. He had foolishly sort to claim one of her dragons and in doing so not only doomed himself but hundreds of other innocents. It was easy to be angry at him but she was truly to blame, which is exactly what Lord Tyrion had said to her. _"A fool the boy may have been but the fault lies in how you have neglected your dragons Khaleesi"_ She knew he was right but she was unaccustomed to being challenged so and Lord Tyrion was never shy to hold his tongue. 

Even before they entered the chamber that Viserion had made his den, they could smell it. The smell of burnt meat and smoke filled her nostrils. The chamber used to be a hall where the master of this pyramid would hold feasts and celebrations. Viserion had turned it into a hall of fire and blood. Remains of his various kills lay strewn all over the hall. Furniture that had surely once been well crafted and beautiful lay scattered, broken and burnt. The hall was now more of a cave, dimly lit and poorly ventilated.

"Viserion" she called out to no reply, her voice echoing softly. 

"Well, it seems like he's not home, mayhaps we should try him later?" Tyrion replied, "After he's eaten for instance." 

Behind them, Ser Barristan gave a small chuckle, "I thought lions were meant to be brave" 

Tyrion ignored the jape and so did she, stepping forward through the ruble and calling out again, louder this time. "Viserion!" 

She was answered by a low growl that reverberated through the hall and she couldn't help but smile. "It seems as if he is home after all, my Lord Hand. Come." She motioned for him to follow as they moved closer. He followed slowly, quietly as they made their way through charred bones. 

She could finally begin to make out his shape in the poor light that not even the torch she held could penetrate. Viserion had always been the smallest of her three dragons but at this moment it was hard to picture the fragile baby dragon he had been. His body had grown large and long. She could make out his tail stretched out lazily behind him. His long neck curled around and his head was sheltered under his large wing, wings that could easily stretch across the length of the hall they were in. She called his name out again, softly and he slowly lifted his head to gaze right at her, his eyes were a molten gold that seemed to burn with a fire of their own, eyes that could turn any man into a snivelling boy. She stared into his eyes and was lost to the world until Tyrion's voice broke the spell.

"He's beautiful." 

That he had spoken at all after such a bout of silence was shocking enough, that he would choose those words to be his first was inconceivable. She turned her head to look at him but Tyrion only had eyes for Viserion. As if in a trance, the little lord was stepping forward slowly, with his short arm outstretched before him, palm facing the dragon. He was whispering softly in High Valyrian, so softly she could barely make out his words, though it seemed to be some sort of chant or prayer. She barely had time to register it all let alone issue a warning before Viserion snapped at Tyrion, those huge fangs stopping inches before his hand. There was a moment of tense silence as Tyrion slowly placed his palm on Viserion's enormous snout and closed his eyes.

The change in Viserion was almost immediate. He went from being snarling and hostile to soft and gentle. Tyrion broke out in laughter as the dragon nuzzled up against him, acting more like a playful kitten than a terrifying dragon. She was stunned.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, voicing her confusion. His reply sounded almost just as confused, "I found an old scroll in the library at Castle Black when I visited The Wall, and it detailed the visit of Good Queen Alysanne and her dragon Silverwing. She shared with the Maester a way to greet a dragon in High Valyrian. I never thought I'd have much use for it but for some reason it stuck in my head." He chuckled, "I didn’t believe it would work, it just felt like the right thing to do." 

Daenerys stared at the dwarf in silence and for the first time she forced herself to truly study his features. Naturally his missing nose drew her eyes, but for the first time she studying the rest of his face, his mismatched eyes, the shape of his chin and face and his long hair, which was such a pale blonde that it seemed white... she gasped. "If you will but give me a moment, my lord. Ser Barristan, attend me if you would." She stepped away from Viserion and Tyrion and the old knight followed her. 

At a safe distance, out of earshot, she turned to Ser Barristan. The old knight had remained silent throughtout the whole exchange as was his nature. "Ser, I am beyond words at what we just witnessed. Childish as it may seem, I had hoped that meeting with Viserion would somehow scare The Imp into being more...tractable. That he would be impressed. Now it seems as if I'm the one who's impressed. How is this possible? He handled Viserion like I've never seen before. My children are never that welcoming to strangers." 

Ser Barristan was as shocked as she was, "I've lived a long life Your Grace and never seen anything of the sort. The dragons have only ever responded in that way to you or one of their own kind."  
"Those were my thoughts exactly, Ser Barristan. Perhaps, Viserion was reacting to one of his one kind, a dragon."

"His own kind Your Grace?"

"Do you recall what you once told me of my father? About his... affections for a certain lady at court?"

Ser Barristan nodded in acknowledgment and seemed to grasp her meaning. "Lady Joannna"

"Yes! Could it be that my father did take liberties with her?" 

The old knight shrugged, "Only the dead know for certain, Your Grace."

She turned back to watch Tyrion as he conducted a study of the cream and gold dragon. She lead Ser Barristan back to the pair and cleared her throat to gain his attention. He looked up at her with a look of pure joy on his face. He was happier than she had ever seen him. "Your Grace?"

"It seems we have found a rider for Viserion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't believe that Tyrion is a secret Targaryen, I just think he would be able to handle a dragon because of his vast knowledge of them
> 
> Feel free to comment :)


	3. Barristan I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting of Queen Daenerys' council regarding her next step

Barristan I 

Two hours since the small council meeting had begun and they were no closer to a decision than they were yesterday. As Lord Commander of the Queensguard, he had a seat on the Queen's council though often Ser Barristan felt like an observer to its proceedings. This was not one of those times. The Queen's council had grown to include a strange group of individuals, some that Ser Barristan was not comfortable with being privy to the Queen's decisions, namely the sellsword captains. Grey Worm, Skahaz Shavepate, Marselen of the Mother's Men, Symon Stripeback of the Free Brothers were names that Ser Barristan was more familiar with. After the battle for the city, new faces filled the council and that gave the old man cause to worry. _How many of these men can we honestly trust._

Tyrion Lannister, the Hand of The Queen, held the council's attention, "Your Grace, if there's anything I've learnt since I started playing this game, is that things can change at any moment. One second, Westeros had one fat drunk king, the next, 5 kings tearing the country apart. From what we know, the country is still mostly divided. With the death of my uncle, my whore of a sister now hold's Kings Landing again though she's still set to face trial. The Tyrells were keeping her in check but with Ironmen holding The Shield islands and reaving all along the coast of The Reach, the Tyrell forces will be divided with trying to quell the invasion. The Lannister army is still scattered across The Riverlands and without a definitive leader, will mostly fall to pieces. With Winter settling in, most of the smallfolk will starve. Stannis is in the North, the last word we had is that he had taken Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn. We need to return to Westeros and put things to right before someone else does."

Surprisingly, it was Victarion Greyjoy who agreed with Tyrion Lannister. "As loathe as I am to admit it, The Imp is right, Your Grace." 

"Ha! Please tell me someone is writing this down. Greyjoy agrees with me." 

Tyrion's quip brought smiles to everyone especially the Queen, with Lord Greyjoy being the only exception. The man never smiled and seemed to have a genuine hatred towards laughter. He was a fearless warrior though and had earned his place as Grand Admiral with the timely arrival of his fleet during the battle of Mereen. Ser Barristan had seen him rushing in to the enemy lines, his cloth-of-gold cloak billowing behind him as he lay waste to all who stood before him with a great war axe. _A pity his tongue isn't as sharp as his axe._

Lord Greyjoy responded to the quip with a sullen stare and clenched his burnt fist in anger which caused it to smoke. It fell to Ser Barristan to stop any angry retorts from Victarion by changing the subject. "Lord Tyrion, have we had no word of the Vale?" 

"None Ser," replied The Imp. "It seems that that weasel Littlefinger has thoroughly convinced the lords of the Vale to accept his rule and stay out of the war." 

Ser Barristan considered this for a moment and said, "Then I propose we start with the Vale, land our ships in Gulltown, and march to lay siege to the Eyrie. If we can convince the Vale lords to turn on Littlefinger and join us, we will have a army that hasn't been diminished by war. The Knights of the Vale pride themselves on their honour, serving a man like Baelish can not be something they would favour." 

A derisive snort from Jorah Mormont drew everyone's attention. "Pardon me, Ser Grandfather, but there is a slight flaw in your plan. Littlefinger holds the liege lord of the Vale, Jon Arryn's son, without him on our side, the Vale lords are bound to Littlefinger by their precious _honour._ To make matter's worse, the Eyrie is impregnable, everyone knows that." 

To which Brown Ben replied, "Give me 20 good men and some climbing spikes and I'll impregnate the bitch." Another round of laughter broke out, though not as heartily as before. Many in the council were still wary of the sellsword's allegiance, seeing as he had already betrayed the queen's cause once.

"A interesting choice, Lord Commander but I think a direct attack on the Capital would serve us best" said Lord Victarion. "Once the Dragon Queen takes the Iron Throne, the Vale lords will be more inclined to join us, regardless of who Littlefinger holds." 

"Mayhaps you are right Greyjoy" replied Tyrion, "Taking the Capital would send a message to the realm but it would not win us the Seven Kingdoms. We need to fix the problems caused by the war. Return the rightful lords to their lands or place new lords in their place and save the realm from all the pretenders that plague it. Tommen, Stannis, Myrcella or whoever the Dornish choose to back and of course your brother, Euron." He gave Lord Victarion a sly grin that only made the Iron Captain angrier. 

"Your Grace, I believe we should strike at The Reach first. If we can put an end to the Ironborn's reaving, we gain one of the largest and certainly the most of the Kingdoms on our side. By saving the Reach from the Crow's Eye, we gain the Tyrell forces and possibly the Ironborn, if we can turn them from Euron." 

Murmurs of agreement proved how right Lord Tyrion was. A strike on the Capital would gain them little if they still have to deal with the problems of the realm as well. It was like putting the cart before the horse. None agreed more than the Queen.

Ser Barristan couldn't help but notice the look on the Queen's face. She was beaming with pride at the Imp's words. Years of being a Kingsguard had taught him to study the moods and emotions of those he protected and it was safe to say that Queen Daenerys had taken a great interest in Lord Tyrion ever since he had bonded with Viserion. He had stood guard as they shared private dinners, public walks through the city and mostly the time they spent with the dragons. Lord Tyrion was determined to impart all his knowledge of the creatures onto Daenerys. They would spend hours talking about them and with them. Through Tyrion's teaching's she had gained more control over Rhaegal and more especially Drogon. 

The time they spent together was not what worried the old knight. _Its the way she looks at him._ The Queen was smitten! In a way that she had never been with Daario Naharis. With Daario it had been a physical attraction, with Tyrion it was different. _Gods know she could never be physically attracted to the Imp._

It shamed him to think of his Queen in that way, he tried to hide his thoughts with a drink of water and focus on the meeting at hand.

The Red Priest had taken the floor and as his voice was a rare one in council, all had gone silent. _Or perhaps he simply frightens them all into silence._

"My Queen, I have gazed into the fires and R'hllor has shown me the path you need to take to gain the Iron Throne." His voice was as deep as the ocean, a slow rumbling that seemed to fill the chambers. 

Queen Daenerys was clearly unsettled by the priest but replied calmly, "You have our attention Moqorro, speak."

"Thank you Your Grace." Said Moqorro as he rose to address the council. "The path to ruling the Seven Kingdoms is a long one. In time, you will travel throughout the realm bringing peace and justice. This path however, does not start in the Vale or The Reach. Taking The Capital too soon would be a mistake My Queen. The fires have shown me the way. You need to return to the home of fire and blood, to the isle of salt and smoke, to the place of your birth. You need to return to -" 

"Dragonstone" Whispered the Queen.

"Yes Your Grace," Said Moqorro with a smile that could frighten little children. "Taking Dragonstone will prove to all that you the rightful Queen, the blood of Aegon The Conqueror and Old Valyria before him." 

The other members of the council began to talk amongst themselves, debating the merits and disadvantages of Moqorro's plan. Lord Tyrion citing that Dragonstone could never hope to support the entire army for long, Lord Victarion agreed with the Red Priest. The Queen remained silent and looked to be contemplating Moqorro's proposition. Only Ser Barristan kept his eyes on the Queen as the arguing grew louder. 

"Enough." Her voice broke through the chatter. 

"I've made a decision. I thank you all for your advice in this. I want all necessary preparations for our journey to be made as soon as possible. There will be no more delays. Its time for me to go home."


	4. Daenerys II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys shares dinner with her Hand, Tyrion as they travel to Westeros.

Daenerys II

It was his fourth cup of wine and she was yet on her first. For a small man, Lord Tyrion could out drink any man twice his size. She had shared many and more meals with him of late, yet it still shocked her to see it. 

“Your Grace,” he said, the question clear in his voice. She looked up to see him staring at her with his mismatched eyes from across the small table. A gaze that most looked away from was one that fascinated her. _Is that a result of his mixed heritage?_ She wondered.

“Yes, my lord, I was just lost in thought.” 

“Firstly,” he replied with a slight smile, “I thought we agreed on you calling me Tyrion. I much prefer it to formal titles. Secondly, what troubles you so?”

Dany picked at the remnants of her dinner of honeyed lamb, roast beets, and mushrooms while thinking of a response. “I wonder if I did the right thing in Volantis. We have the men, we could have taken the city.” 

“Mayhaps we could have your grace, the question is could we have kept it? 

She looked up from her food to meet his gaze, “I mislike leaving the city in the hands of Benerro and his fiery fingers.” 

Tyrion smirked at the use of the nickname he’d given the Fiery Hand of the Red God, R’hollor but didn’t reply. Leaving the city was his idea. When her forces had arrived in Volantis, the High Priest Benerro had greeted her at the docks and proclaimed her Azho Ahai reborn. Moqorro had been giving her lessons prior to their arrival and she was ready for the proclamation, even though she didn’t agree with it, let alone believe it. Though she had to admit, the prophecy did seem to fit her. 

“Tyrion, do you believe in the prophecy? The one about me?” she had never asked him the question before, though she suspected the nature of the answer. 

He took a long sip of his wine and paused before his response, “Gorghan of Old Ghis once said that a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth and you moan with the pleasure of it and think, how sweet, how fine, how good this is…and then her teeth snap shut and your moans turn to screams. That is the nature of prophecy said Gorghan. Prophecy will bite your prick off every time.”

His crude response brought a smile to her face, “That doesn’t quite answer my question” 

He replied with his own lopsided grin, “I suppose it doesn’t. What I meant by it is that a prophecy is not something you should put much faith in.” 

“Yet you can’t deny that I fit the prophecy. _When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be reborn amidst salt and smoke to wake dragons out of stone._ The night the comet first appeared was the night I walked into the flames and my dragons hatched from stone. That cannot be mere coincidence.” 

Tyrion seemed to muse over her words and shrugged before responding, “You are right, Your Grace, it seems to fit. There is one issue though and that is the fact that Azor Ahai is male. The Prince that was promised, not Princess.” 

She stood, her violet eyes blazing with anger “So the fact that I’m a woman means I can’t save the world?” 

“Is that what you want?” Tyrion asked with his head cocked, “To save the world? Pardon me, Your Grace, but that is quite a childish notion. I’ve told you this before, in Mereen and in Volantis, you cannot save everyone. And from what, pray tell? The darkness?” He asked with a sneer. “How exactly do you mean to fight this darkness?” 

That caught her off guard and doused the heat of her response. She slumped back into her seat. “I… I’m not sure yet.” 

With a sigh, he rose from his seat and walked over to talk her hand in his. “We have a long and hard road ahead of us Dany. Winter is here and we need to focus on securing your throne and uniting the people behind you. I understand your desire to save everyone and honestly, I admire it, it’s one of the things that make you a such a great leader but there will come a time when you have to make hard decisions that will cost lives, for the good of the realm. Westeros needs stability, justice and most importantly peace. We cannot afford to be distracted by prophecies and dreams.” 

His sincerity took her aback and the look in his eyes was one she had rarely seen before. There was a sadness in them that she had only glimpsed beneath his quips and crude words. Though it was the warm of his hand on hers that she had not expected and she felt a flush of warmth run through her. He was close enough for her to smell the wine on his breath and it awoke a thirst in her that the drink never had. 

It took her too long to react to this sudden change and he clearly picked up on her discomfort. Pulling back his hand, he cleared his throat and mumbled an apology, becoming uncharacteristically shy. It immediately dawned on her that he’d taken a huge risk by getting that close to her and she had scared him off. 

A knock on her door broke the silence. “Your Grace, it is I, Ser Barristan.” 

She tried to compose herself and noted that Lord Tyrion did the same. Once she was sure they were ready, she called out for Ser Barristan to enter. 

The old knight wore white as always, it suited him better than the old robes he had worn as Arstan Whitebeard. He bowed before reporting to her, “Your Grace, the Iron Captain bids me report, we will arrive on Dragonstone shortly after dawn. ” 

_Finally_ , she thought. _I'm home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for the delays in new chapters. Unfortunately life intervened and I lost most off the work I'd started on this chapterosaurs and others, resulting in me havongoing to restart and rework all my existing works. I'll be uploading more chapters soon.


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